


Lightning Crashes

by DumbestBitchhh



Series: Lightning crashes [2]
Category: Cars (Pixar Movies)
Genre: F/F, cars as people, lesbian lightning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 20:01:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20711714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DumbestBitchhh/pseuds/DumbestBitchhh
Summary: After a crash leaves Lightning wondering when she'll be able to race again, Sally comforts her.





	Lightning Crashes

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for my beautiful girlfriend <3

100, 120, 140. . . My eyes flit away from the speedometer to the smooth expanse ahead of me. My foot’s pressed firmly on the gas and I will the curve to approach faster. _Come on, come on. . . _I take a deep breath, tensing as I imagine my body as one with the car, the steering wheel an extension of my arms, and look through the curve. _Don’t you fucking dare slow down._ My leg shakes as I press harder on the pedal but holds as I fly through the curve, just me and my car, flying. This is what I was made for.

And as soon as it began it’s over, and I’m back on the stretch. I glance to the stands; I’m going way too fast to see anything, but I know she’s there somewhere, and that knowledge fills me with a fire, a deep need to win, to go faster than physically possible. _Sally, look what I can do._ Another curve, another stretch, another curve, and my heart is pumping. I can’t help but yell with pure exhilaration, laughing.

Another curve, another stretch, and I immediately know something’s wrong. _Fuck fuck fuck_ the steering wheel won’t turn fast enough, and now it’s shaking. _Fuck I’m going too fast._ My foot flies off of the gas, and eases onto the breaks, trying not to panic and press too hard, but then I see the stands flying toward me and I panic and slam my foot onto the pedal, spinning further out of control, hitting the stands and flipping, and then it all goes black.

I wake up to see Sally’s panicked face, then again when the EMTs arrive, then fall asleep for I don’t know how long.

I see sally again when I open my eyes. She’s tired, blinking sleepily as she looks at her phone. Its light reflects off of her face, giving her an ethereal glow. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, but it’s come undone now, and the hair frames and clings to her cheeks. 

“Hey, babe,” I was going for sexy but it comes out as a croak.

She looks up and jumps a little. “God, how long have you been awake?”

I smile. “Only a few seconds. How long have you been awake?”

She runs a hand over her hair, an attempt to smooth out the stray ones that only makes them stick out in every direction. “You’ve been out for a while.”

A dull pain has kicked in, all over my body, but in my leg especially. “How bad is it?”

She shakes her head. “Not terrible. They keep telling me how lucky you are. . . doesn’t feel lucky. . . but, uh, yeah. You got a concussion. They’re monitoring it now. Some cracks in your ribs. Broken leg.”

“I guess that _is_ lucky. Coulda been a lot worse. It _has_ been a lot worse.” I try to breathe, not to panic, not to think about how long I’ll be stuck in bed.

Sally moves forward like she wants to hug me, then takes my hand, squeezing. “I’m so fucking happy you’re alive.”

I squeeze back, feeling some of the tension drain out of me. “Me too.”

She stares at me, a long, sad look that makes me uncomfortable, then finally turns away. “Want a juice?” She holds up a tiny juice box.

I smile and lift my hand to take it, then wince as pain shoots through my chest. “Ugh. Feed me?” I look at her, wide-eyed.

She smirks, “God, you look so helpless,” and holds the straw up to my mouth.

“Don’t remind me.” I bite my lip. “How long do you think it’ll take before I can drive again?”

She doesn’t meet my eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Well, how long until my leg’s healed?”

“Lightning, you’ve been in accidents before, you know--”

Panic rises in my chest, a buzz, a need to get all this shit off me, all these tubes out of me. “Fuckfuckfuck--”

She lays her hand on my chest, so gently it could have been a leaf falling from a tree, and I focus on her light touch, letting my brain hone in until the buzz becomes a hum in the background. I rest my cheek on her hand, not bothering to wipe away my tears. She must think I’m pathetic.

She strokes my cheek. “We’ll get through this, okay? It’ll breeze by.”

I turn away, my face hot. “You don’t have to baby me. I know.”

She sighs. “I’m not babying you.”

I pout. “You probably think I’m an idiot.”

She grabs my face, making me look at her and grins. “Yeah, but I always think that. You know what I’m really thinking. . .” She runs her hand along my thigh. “We can find ways to make the time pass quickly. . .”

“Sally!” I smack her hand, then wince as pain shoots through my ribs. “I’m an _invalid._”

She ignores my smack. “Way I see it, you’re all tied up, ready to be ravished.”

I scoff. “I’m far too fragile right now to be ravished, first of all--”

She cuts me off with a kiss. “I’ll be gentle?” Her eyes are pleading.

Her hand has stopped moving, and my skin is itching for her touch again. I sigh. “You’d better be. If you damage me any further, you’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”

She moves her hand under the thin hospital sheets. “I’m sure she’ll understand my enthusiasm.”

She’s so gentle, beautifully, infuriatingly gentle, as she expertly touches my body, and the pain becomes secondary. Her hands are a drug, a sweet release, and I need it, I didn’t even realize how much I need it. I let my head roll back, I don’t even care how stupid I look, how much she has me wrapped around her fingers, it just feels so fucking good. “Sally,” I breathe, I plea, I praise.

Her kisses are just as gentle, delicate on my lips, my neck, my ears, my hair. I know she’s holding back from kissing my chest, and I want to cry. And then tears are rolling down my cheeks, because fuck, she loves me, huh?

She pulls back. “You’re crying.”

I shake my head.

She strokes her hand through my hair. “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?”

I shake my head, a sob building in my chest. “No, don’t stop. I-- I love you so much.”

She smiles, and maybe I’m imagining tears in her eyes, but I don’t think I am. “I love you too, McQueen.”

I arch my back. “I said, don’t stop.”

She laughs. “As long as you’re okay.” She gazes down at me, her brown eyes warm, drinking me in. “You’re so pretty when you cry.”

“What--” I begin, but then she’s touching me again, pressing into me, and I forget what I was thinking about, forget everything but her and the euphoria that streaks through my veins, pumps my blood, puts me back on the racetrack, going 200 miles per hour.

And then she’s touching me gently again, her fingers pushing back wisps of my hair, her kisses delicately tracing my jawline. She pulls back, her cheeks flushed, her eyes scanning me again. “You’re still crying.”

“No,” I lie.

A sly look comes into her eye. “Well, I don’t wanna see you cry.” And she begins to climb onto the bed, pulling off her underwear from below her skirt.

“Sally!” It’s not that I don’t want her, not that i’m ready to break all the bones in my body for her, but, “What if someone comes in? We’re in a fucking hospital!”

She continues hoisting her tight skirt around her waist. “We’re in _Lightning McQueen’s private room_, relax.” She pauses and looks into my eyes, my soul. 

I kiss the inside of her thigh, intoxicated by her smell. “You’re crazy.” And then she’s on top of me, riding my face like it’s hers, and it is. And all the pain, all the restlessness is gone, and it’s all her. She clutches my hair, my name on her lips like a spell, enchanting me to be hers forever. When she comes, I lick the insides of her thighs, savoring this last moment before reality hits again.

She slides down so we are face to face, holding her body up so that she doesn’t crush me, and kisses me deeply, her fingers still twisted through my hair. “Feeling better?”

I nuzzle into her neck. “Uh huh.” 

She smells like sweat and heat and paper and ink, and she clutches me to her like she’s afraid I’ll fly away if she lets go. “We’re gonna get through this, baby.”

I smile, hidden in the folds of her shirt. “I know.”


End file.
